Mrs. Claus

I committed this random act of poetry for my Patreon subscribers. (They get an audio recording of it.) It may have come out a tad darker than I intended? Enjoy!


Who is Mrs. Claus?


We have heard of Santa Claus

Father Christmas, St. Nick

that Jolly Ole’ Elf

who brings toys to good children

(and we are all someone’s child)

that keeper of lists

Naughty and Nice

passing judgement

bang of a gavel sounds

Ho. Ho. Ho.


But who is Mrs. Claus?


We reckon she exists

cooking and cleaning for Santa

keeping the home fire lit

on that long winter’s night.



she manages the elves in their workshop

wrangles reindeer


reader of letters

suggester of gifts.



like attracts like

(or is it opposites attract?)

And she is the voice of mercy

of leniency

of one more warning to be good

listen to your parents

don’t tease your siblings

or classmates

or neighbors

or strangers.



opposites attract

(or is it like attracts like?)

and she is prosecutor

making a case for each name

to be marked naughty

to leave switches or coal

or no gift at all for those

who stab friends

beat classmates

steal from neighbors

torment strangers.


I have heard another tale

drinking brandy with Santa late one night

after his rounds were done

one whispered


in the quiet moments between dark and dawn.


Mrs. Claus

(beautiful soul that she is, my bonny Conny, he hastened to add)

was once a fury

a priestess of blind Justice

Inanna hanging from a meat hook

embodiment of angry pain seeking vengeance.


She takes the naughty list

(he whispered)

gives warnings to those good of heart

who but strayed and erred

gives lumps of coal or switches to those

who need telling one too many times

a reminder of worse yet to come

if ways are not mended.


Then there are those

(he whispered so softly I almost did not hear)

whose nightmares she stalks.

Who do you think arranged visitors three to old Scrooge?

Did you think him the first

or last

to behold such visions?


And those that don’t heed their dreams?

(I asked softly.)

(He drank deeply then answered with a tremble)

Those who turn away from redemption

in sullen silence or with a sneer?

Who think they’re untouchable by Consequence?


Those are snatched by Mrs.  Claus

(or is it Mrs. Claws?)

with nails sharp as scythes

wraps them in dark tendrils

injects them with fangs

and transforms them into…


Did you ever wonder where elves came from?

Santa’s helpers


analysts of your every deed and word

watchers of your every mouse click

keepers of your every secret

(Big Data hires them as consultants)

those procurers of toys?


I wonder what crimes Jolly Ole’ Saint Nick committed when young.


Or maybe opposites attract.


by Kimberley Long-Ewing

Copyright 2016, all rights reserved